


Canadians

by 391780 (goblinparty)



Series: Cold Wind [21]
Category: Fargo (2014)
Genre: Blood and Gore, Gen, Minor Character Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-22
Updated: 2014-12-22
Packaged: 2018-03-02 22:02:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,382
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2827607
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/goblinparty/pseuds/391780
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After two long weeks of no work, getting called in to Fargo felt like a breath of fresh air.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Canadians

After two long weeks of no work, getting called in to Fargo felt like a breath of fresh air. Both Wrench and Numbers were getting antsy, desperately needing something exciting to do (other than each other). They traipsed into the office, both men smiling sweetly to the receptionist, Debbie. Numbers would swear she thought she worked in an insurance office, and liked that she would bring in baked goods from time to time to share with everyone that came into the Fargo office. They took the elevator and walked to Jergen's office, where he was getting files ready. He looked up at the two men in surprise and checked his watch.

“You two are a bit early. Eager, eh?”

“It's been a boring few weeks.” Aussie chuckled.

“I'll say. No worries, it's about to get plenty exciting. We're just waiting on two more.” Numbers raised his eyebrows.

“Big job?” Aussie just grinned wickedly in response.

“Nothing you lot can't handle. Almost jealous, it sounds like a load of fun.” Letters and Hammer sauntered into the small office and took a seat. Hammer looked like hell, he had a black eye and deep red scratches down his neck, and looked like sitting was uncomfortable.

_What the fuck happened to you?_ Asked Wrench. Hammer pretended not to see while Numbers and Letters shared a knowing smirk.

“We all ready, then? Hammer, mate, you look like hell.” Hammer sighed and rolled his eyes.

“Not exactly a supermodel yourself, Jergen. Can we get on with this?” 

“Yeah, yeah, OK. You lot are headed out to this little warehouse here.” He tapped a spot on the map set out in front of him. “We think some Canadian operation has started up and we need to quash it ASAP before it gets to be a problem. Intel says there's about 15 guys out there. Your job is to round 'em all up, interrogate the lot of them, and get rid of them. Boss says messier the better.”

“Music to my ears.” Letters grinned.

“You're gonna stain the hell out of your white clothes, Letters.” Hammer pointed out. Letters laughed.

“I Scotchgard my shit. This isn't fucking amateur hour, man.” Aussie smirked, and passed out four folders to each of them.

“Anywho, everything you need to know is in there. I trust you can work out a plan of your own, all I ask is you keep me appraised of the plan and progress along the way. You leave tomorrow.”

“Jergen, these are incredibly thorough and organized. Way better than it used to be, back when Rivers was in charge of this stuff.” Letters said as she flipped through the file. Aussie beamed.

“Thanks, Lets. I'll have you know this job is _intensely_ boring and I have a lot of time to fill.” 

“I'd be more than happy to help you fill it sometime.” Letters purred. Aussie cocked his head and grinned at her while Hammer bristled slightly. Wrench tapped Numbers' shoulder.

_What's the exterior lighting like at this place?_

_Why do you want to know?_ Wrench rolled his eyes.

_Because if the exterior lighting is poor we can wait until dark to move in unseen, plus we won't have to park absurdly far away. Also, if there's 15 guys there, it's about 4 of them to each of us, and stealth is going to be the best option._ Numbers smiled at Wrench, deeply appreciating his cleverness, and turned to Aussie.

“How's the exterior lighting?”

“Almost nonexistent. There's one little 30 watt bulb over the front door, but nothing else Intel could see.” Numbers translated and Wrench grinned.

_Cakewalk._

_Yeah, we'll see._ Numbers turned back to Aussie. “Is there anything else?”

“Nah, you're set. Give me a call when you've got the details planned out.” Aussie waved them out of his office, returning to the small mountain of papers on his desk.

\---------------

The next evening the four of them sat in the Buick, going over the plan one last time while watching men go in and out of the dilapidated warehouse.

“OK, so you and I will take the back, chloroforming whoever we find while the twins knock out people in the front.” Letters said to Numbers. “Then we restrain them, take them one by one into the small office inside and interrogate them loudly before ripping them apart. That's it in a nutshell, right?”

“Basically. Hopefully we can get everyone knocked out and corralled before they're able to reach that gun stash in the back.” Numbers tapped the back wall on the blueprint where the gun safe was. “Thank fuck this is a small operation or we'd have a lot more firepower to worry about.” Letters and Hammer nodded, and Wrench tapped Numbers shoulder.

_All fifteen are inside. Let's do this._ Numbers grinned and looked to Letters, who looked a little lost.

“It's time.”

They all excited the car, the twins keeping watch around front while Numbers and Letters snuck around back. On Numbers' cue, Hammer threw a rock against the front door, luring 2 men outside, who were promptly subdued by Numbers' and Letters' chloroform soaked rags. They dragged their victims out of sight and zip tied their arms and legs together before giving Wrench the signal to throw another rock, summoning more men to come outside. After a few rounds, they had all but five of the men unconscious and bound outside in the snow. Wrench led the charge inside, and after a few minutes everyone who had been working inside was zip-tied and unconscious. The twins drug the passed-out and bound bodies into the warehouse as Numbers and Letters prepared the interrogation room, blacking out the windows and removing the all of the office furniture except for a few chairs. All four looked over the scene- over a dozen passed-out, bound men in a pile, just waiting to be tortured and killed. Letters punched Numbers' shoulder playfully.

“Just like old times, eh?” Numbers laughed and nodded, then turned to sign to Wrench.

_Go ahead and dump the ammonia. We're ready._ Wrench and Hammer grinned at one another and began pouring bottle after bottle of ammonia on the mass of unconscious bodies, waking the men with a start.

“Hello. I'm Ms. Letters, and this is my friend Mr. Numbers. We have some questions for you.” The tone of her voice was dangerous and menacing, and every man in the room, including her coworkers, gave her their full attention. “We'll be talking to you one by one, and we encourage you to be honest and open with your answers. Who wants to go first?” The bound men looked at one another in confusion and panic, causing Letters to roll her eyes and point to a paunchy, balding man crouched in the corner. “You'll do. Mr. Numbers, would you mind assisting me?” Numbers smirked and grabbed the man by the shoulders, dragging him screaming and kicking into the small office. Wrench and Hammer watched over the rest of their captives, ignoring the pained, panicked screamed emanating from the office and signing to each other about last week's football game. As soon as the screaming stopped, Letters' emerged from the office, flecks of blood on her face and in her hair.

“Who's next?” The rest of the captives huddled together in fear. Hammer picked one out, who begged and screamed and cried out for mercy until the office door slammed closed behind him. Wrench tapped his brother on the shoulder.

_Seriously, what happened to you?_ Hammer sighed dramatically.

_I promise you don't want to know._

_Does it have to do with Letters? Numbers said she's a crazy sex-maniac._ Hammer laughed heartily, scaring the shit out of the remaining prisoners.

_Don't worry about it. I can handle myself._ Wrench threw his brother a disbelieving look and turned back to the prisoners, some of whom were whispering to each other.  _What are they saying?_

_They're talking about trying to get free. Don't worry, first one to try anything gets a bullet to the brain._ At that moment, a large man stood up and tried to rush Wrench, and stopped mid-charge as a bullet went whizzing between his eyes, spraying blood and brains all over his companions.

“Who else feels like doing something fucking stupid?” Bellowed Hammer, Uzi in hand. The men huddled below him cowered even more, avoiding eye contact and shaking where they sat. Hammer turned to Wrench. _See? It's handled._

Numbers popped his head out of the office door.

“Next!” He yelled, blood and viscera covering his face. One by one they pulled the men into the office, and one by one they died violent, painful deaths. By the time they had gone through ten of them, the remaining four were shaking and crying where they sat. Numbers and Letters exited the office, looking over the remaining men.

“I think we could be a lot more efficient if we just finished this all at once.” said Numbers.

“Agreed.” replied Letters, who nodded to Wrench and Hammer. They pulled the remaining five into the office. Wrench tried not to vomit at the sight of the inside of the interrogation room- blood and gore covered the walls as ten lifeless heads were lined up on the desk and entrails hung from the ceiling, dripping with thick, somewhat coagulated blood. It looked like a horror film, and the smell of blood and death hung heavy in the air. Wrench waved to Numbers.

_Is this your doing?_

_Are you kidding? This was all her._ Numbers pointed towards Letters.  _She had the idea of intestines from the lights. She said it would be more 'festive'._ Wrench raised his eyebrows and Numbers laughed.  _I told you she was fucking crazy._ Letters ignored them, focusing instead on the thin, tall teenager who was bound by his wrists and ankles.

“I don't suppose _you_ know where Mark Graham is, do you?” She purred menacingly. The young man shook his head violently, and she sighed in exasperation. “Mr. Numbers, would you hand me the boxcutter, please?” 

“No! Wait! Please!” The teenager cried out, and all four Fargo employees stopped to look at him. “I-I-I-I don't know, but he does!” He jerked his head towards a short, round man whose toupee was clearly sliding off. Letters crouched down, taking the teenager's face in her hands, and kissed him. When she pulled away, Numbers couldn't tell if the kid was in shock or in love.

“Thank you, darling.” She whispered seductively, right before slashing his throat with the boxcutter. Blood poured everywhere and the boy gurgled weakly before collapsing onto the floor, lifeless. Numbers pulled his gun out of his jacket and wheeled on the balding man.

“So?”

“I don't! I don't know! The kid was wrong! He was-” Hammer lifted the man to his feet roughly and pinned him against the wall by his neck. He jerked his chin to the row of severed heads.

“How many of them do you think said those exact words?” He snarled. The balding man's eyes went wider and he vomited all over the front of himself and Hammer's arm, causing Hammer to drop him and curse. One of the remaining men, a redhead dressed in flannel, took advantage of the distraction and began to slowly crawl towards the door.. Wrench strode up to him casually, and stomped on the redhead's skull with his thick steel-toed boots. Blood gushed from the man's broken skull, mixing with the gallons of gore already puddled on the floor. The two remaining men were shaking and crying on the floor, begging for their lives. Numbers strode up to the balding man, who was kneeling in front of him. He stood uncomfortably close, the man's face at crotch level. He grabbed the balding man's face and tilted it upward.

“Give us Graham.” He said softly.

“He- he went back to Manitoba. Went to get more men, more supplies. Please, please I-” Numbers put his finger to his lips, shushing the man.

“When does he get back?”

“At the beginning of next month.” Numbers turned and looked to Letters and smiled.

“This place should be absolutely rancid by then. What a nasty little surprise for Mr. Graham.” He pulled the gun out of his jacket and shot the remaining men in the head.

\------

_I don't think we're gonna be able to make it back to Fargo tonight. Motel?_

_Yeah, sure, just keep your eye on the road and stop steering with your knees! You're going to get us killed!_ Wrench just smirked at Numbers, delighting in how such a ruthless killer could also be such a worrywart.

“We're gonna have to stop at a motel tonight.” Numbers translated for Letters. 

“Good. I could use a shower as soon as possible. I've got bits of Canadian stuck in my hair.” She wrinkled her nose.

“How are we gonna do this? Fargo's not gonna pay for us to have our own rooms.” Hammer yawned. Numbers looked to Letters.

“I call 'not sleeping with Hammer'.” Letters grinned at him.

“I don't!” She chirped. Hammer smiled at her.

“Just take it easy on him, Letters. Wrench is worried you're gonna beat him to death.”

“Beat him off to death, more like.” Hammer turned bright red and focused his attention out of the window, opting to watch small businesses and traffic lights pass by instead of taking part in the conversation. Wrench looked over to Numbers, and thought about how handsome he looked in the soft glow emanating from the radio display. Numbers noticed his staring.

_What?_

_You're beautiful._ Numbers rolled his eyes and Hammer made loud gagging noises from the back seat.

“Letters, could you handle that?”

“My pleasure.” She socked Hammer playfully on the shoulder, causing him to laugh and pull her in close. The four of them drove off into the night, teasing each other mercilessly, as if they hadn't just slaughtered fifteen people in the span of a few hours. Numbers couldn't help but feel relief at the sense of normalcy, four companions hanging out and laughing with each other after a day at work. It almost made him sad for all the years he had spent completely isolated. He watched the street lights go by and thought to himself how unexpectedly pleasant it was to not be alone anymore.

 


End file.
